


Look at Me

by Impetus



Category: Free!
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert, reader - Freeform, soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7540660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impetus/pseuds/Impetus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmate AU reader insert with Makoto!<br/>I plan on using this soulmate AU in the future, be it with reader insert or just general fic!<br/>Death mentioned--no major character death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look at Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!!

You wanted to tell everyone that they were wrong. 

People always told you those stories when you were young. Stories about how time stands still, the world becomes brighter, and every sound feels like music. That the first words they speak to you will resound as though the rest of the world was waiting to hear it. Adults wove tales of feeling completely and utterly whole.

You had yet to feel such things. At least, that’s what the grey in your eyes told you.  
But that’s not how you felt. That wasn’t what the thudding in your chest sang every day.  
The bond you felt was more than what your eyes reflected. That’s what you wanted to believe.

Part of you ached as you moved unnoticed past the small collections of people in color. Together or alone, all of them glistened like beacons among the colorless around them. Their vibrancy was hard to ignore as they bustled through public spaces and it was all you could to do keep your gaze down and your presence low. Sometimes it actually hurt to look at them. At your age, being grey was upsetting. This was supposed to be the prime of your life.

It hurt the most to look into their eyes. The vivid shades of blue, green, brown, and hazel touting the experience of a happiness people said you couldn’t know.

“Not yet, anyway,” said many friends, grey and in color alike. Hope. In a way you sometimes felt that you deserved your greyness—that the traitorous feelings you kept were somehow driving your soulmate away from you.

“At least you’re still grey.” 

You also considered this. Many people, especially the elderly, looked at your eyes with a mix of sympathy and envy. The white-eyed lonely whose soulmates had passed on made you grateful that you had not experienced the pain those expressions held. Once, you had spoken thoughtlessly of that pain, blinded by your own. Cruel words spilled from your mouth in anger as you yelled at the top of your lungs that you wished you had been born with white eyes. You wish you didn’t have to live in a suspended state, torn between excitement that maybe today might be the day and disappointment when it wasn’t. You anticipated and feared the day you would finally be rid of this lingering ache.

“I am grateful for my friends and our family,” your brother had said. His white eyes stared into your grey ones with a sense of finality. “Soulmates are not the only source of love in the world. Be grateful that you will have the opportunity to experience that love. But do not take the others around you for granted.”

Many people lived their whole lives grey as the opportunity simply never had the chance to manifest. Your aunt never sought her soulmate. She shrugged off the expectations of soul seeking and focused instead on a future carved directly by her own actions. Sometimes you wondered if her decision to focus only on her career and her desires had hurt the person on the other end of the red string she held. You wondered if they felt as lonely and confused as you did. Maybe they turned away from her, like you had your own soulmate. When you saw her, these thoughts were wiped from your mind. She was happy and she was whole. In the end, that’s what mattered.

People always spoke about how living in color gave you a happiness that could not be reached otherwise. You knew it was just the power of the populace that placed the expectation of seeking that happiness upon you. It didn’t make the desire any less real.

But you already felt it, your heart declared. He made you feel special and warm and whole. His presence filled you with all of the things described in your most loved and hated childhood book. Your thoughts began to overwhelm you as you continued on your way. Suddenly, a hand caught onto your arm.

“Hey, where have you been? I was getting worried.” After a momentary pause to collect yourself, you quietly sent up a prayer of thanks for this partner assignment before turning around.

“Ah, Tachibana-kun. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” you smiled. The boy in front of you made you feel the closest thing to whole as you could imagine. So whole in fact, that it hurt to look into his stark white eyes.

“No problem! “ he chuckled. He rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes slid shut. When they were closed, it was easier to pretend that they glowed brightly for you.

Really, they shone a dulled, muted white. When you’d asked him about it, he’d shrugged and gestured to a small frame he kept by his bedside.

“Haru” was the simple response. His gaze was kind and warm despite the cold washing over you.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you murmured, genuine. 

“He loved the ocean.” Makoto laughed wistfully. “Nothing spoke to his soul quite like the water did.”

In a way, you almost hated Haru. He had a loving soulmate who had been there for him all through his childhood. But he loved the ocean more, and it took him away. Makoto had told you stories of them growing up together. The expression he wore when he spoke about meeting Haru was burned into your memory. All the joy and splendor you felt, as well as the heartbreak, mirrored his own. 

Now, his eyes couldn’t glow. Not anymore...and especially not for you.

Makoto’s large hand moving to your shoulder brought you back into the present. His brows were creased with worry. “You okay?” He asked. “We can work on the project another time.” Suddenly, it became harder for you to breathe. The last thing you wanted was for him to leave.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Let’s get started, since we’re both already out here.” You smiled, attempting to reassure him. Grey eyes or not, you were sure that you loved him. After one last questioning look, he simply nodded and walked ahead to lead you to the location the two of you  
were scouting. His turned back allowed you to take a moment to think.

You wondered about what your eyes would look like.  
You wondered more about how his eyes once looked.

***

The days passed as they always did, life playing  
almost like the movie you were making, lazily yet evermoving. You saw him often. The part of you that was so grateful for this project fought for dominance with the heartbreak you felt when you were next to him. Makoto’s warmth wasn’t hard to feel in a crowd, and easier still in all the small spaces you seemed to end up in with him. 

Like elevators.

Or when you were editing.

Or the rickety booth in a cramped restaurant.

It was almost like the world was crowding in on you to flaunt what was so close but could never be yours.

 

***

“Hey, do you want to go grab food after we wrap the shoot?” Makoto asked casually. Despite the aching in your chest fed by your rising heart rate, you couldn’t say no. You could never say no to him after all.

“Yeah of course!”

“Great! There’s this really nice restaurant I was reading about that I’m sure you’ll love!” He rattled on about the food and the atmosphere and about how he had thought of you immediately upon discovering it online. The words rang with a fondness for you. Maybe that was just wishful thinking. “I heard that Tattsun ate there too. That’s the celebrity you like, right? I remembered that you love him so I figured you wouldn’t be able to resist!”

In a way he was right in that you weren’t able to resist. The only difference being that you wanted to go because of him. Words of affection almost made their way out of your throat when you choked them down. 

“Let’s go!” you chirped instead. One last hurrah, you thought. The project was ending after editing and this would be the last time you had an excuse to see him often. 

You ended up sharing your dessert at the restaurant. Tucked in a corner at a small table, the conversation seemed so easy and the food was so good that neither of you could decide on only one thing. 

“Let me walk you home.”

When you finally arrived at your door, he pulled you into a hug before saying goodbye. In a moment of weakness, you hugged him back.

***

You wouldn’t see him every day anymore.  
The pain would go away. 

You went to bed that night resigning yourself to the loneliness you had almost come to miss. It hurt before, but it not like this. The words that burned your tongue slowly made their way back to where they came from. Silence comforted you as you laid in bed.

Forget him.  
Forget his white eyes.  
Forget the frame on his nightstand.  
Forget that he would never truly look at you.

And for a while you pretended that you could.

***  
It lasted maybe a few days.  
Your resolve wavered when he called you.

“The movie you’ve been looking forward to came out and I bought tickets!” His voice was so friendly and energetic that you could practically hear his smile.

You went with him and the movie was just as good as you’d hoped. Once your hands even touched when he offered you some candy.

***  
A week later and it began to crack.

“This ice cream place is really good. I want to take you sometime!” The text read when it popped up on your phone. His special ringtone chiming as he proceeded to tell you his schedule and the address. Even if you wanted to decline, he wasn’t giving you much room to.

Makoto accidentally bought the very last of your favorite flavor. You didn’t say anything but he had offered to trade with you anyway. When you declined, he took one bite and then declared that you would switch. He exchanged your cones before you could protest. Later your mutual friend Nagisa expressed surprise that Makoto gave up his ice cream. It just so happened that he favored the same flavor as you. 

***  
It only lasted a couple more days when it crumbled for good. 

“Do you want to go to the beach?

You didn’t because you knew that was where Haru had left him.  
You said yes anyway.

Upon arrival, he picked you up and dragged you into the water with his arms wrapped around you.

When you both lay in the sand laughing about something stupid you couldn’t remember, he looked directly at you and his smile widened. His eyes reflected the ocean and you could almost trick yourself into thinking that maybe they were blue today. Maybe they were blue for you. You blinked and the color was gone. 

“Thank you for coming with me today.” He whispered, resting a seashell he’d found on your hip.

“You’re welcome,” you breathed. 

You woke up on the beach towel you’d brought next to a sleeping and content looking Makoto.  
Unable to control yourself, you brought a hand to his cheek and brushed away the sand resting there. 

For  
a moment  
you hesitated when the wind kissed his hair and whispered encouragements in your ear.

“I love you.” You said to no one, the words settling over you with the headiness of the afternoon sun. He didn’t have to know, the waves sang softly. But now the world did. 

When Makoto woke up ten minutes later  
you decided it was time to pack up. You studiously avoided his gaze, worried that he’d caught you staring. If he noticed you watching him sleep, he didn’t mention it.

After getting home, you realised that you had an odd tan line in the shape of small shell. Normally it would bother you, but you didn’t mind.

***  
You swore up and down that the world was torturing you. The sunlight bouncing around your room was brighter than you’d ever seen it and you stretched before trying to hide from it. Birds chirping in your window were loud, but their sound wasn’t as unwelcome as you had come to expect. As though the world was welcoming you with some sort of strangely pleasant hangover.

Your phone went off, a message from Makoto with a picture attached blinking excitedly on the screen. Pushing the blankets up and over your head, you stretched dazedly and opened the text.

“Selfie from the beach!” His eyes were closed, but you were almost happier that way. It was still a nice picture. You looked so happy.

When you’d stumbled into the bathroom to brush your teeth you didn’t notice anything. It only occurred to you after you’d blearily made your way into the kitchen that something was off.

“Hey…” your brother started. His voice trailing off when he looked up at you. 

“I know I look gross. I haven’t brushed my hair yet but I’m hungry and I don’t care,” you grumbled as you bustled around the kitchen before poking your head into the fridge. “Did you make new rice or do I have to use leftovers?” you asked, sniffing to see if you could smell fresh rice. He said nothing. Sighing you stood back up to look at him over the door. “Answer when you’re ready,” you chuckled, brows raised.

“Why are you acting so normal?” An expression twisted his face. What it was, you didn’t quite know.

“What do you mean? I just woke up. I’m not sure anyone acts normally upon waking up,” you huffed. “Just tell me if I need to microwave rice or not.”

“Did you already go out this morning?“ He asked finally. His stilted tone conveying the emotion his face was fighting to hide. Jealousy. 

“Um, no. I told you that I just woke up. What’s your deal? Why can’t you just answer my question?” You asked, patience running out. It was early, you were hungry, and you could feel a slight sunburn itching across your nose. 

“Go look at yourself,” he said shortly before turning back to his breakfast. “I used leftovers from last night.”

You stared at him for a moment. When it became obvious that he was refusing to look at you, you grumbled under your breath and made your way to a mirror in the hall. Gaze sweeping up from your feet, it took a moment before everything processed. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“My eyes.”

“Yeah.” 

Bright and glowing. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right.

He came up next to you and took your hand. “Who is it?” Your brother asked softly. “Did you look out your window and glimpse someone walking by?

“No,” you whispered. You knew who it was. But it couldn’t be.

“Then who?”

“Tachibana.” 

His voice dropped. “The guy you had that project with?” After a beat, you nodded. Pity ran across his features. “His eyes are white.” Any traces of jealousy disappeared from his countenance.

“I know.” And you finally began to cry.

***

You stayed home for a few days or maybe a few weeks. Time passed without you acknowledging it. It felt like you had been watching a storm from afar. Waiting for it in the breezes and light rain before it finally descended and began to suffocate you. Now your soil was washed away and your roots were being torn up. On countless days you had reassured yourself, you expected this.

It didn’t make facing it any easier. 

He sent you texts at first.  
Soon the simple and friendly conversation became more urgent. The texts remained unreturned and they soon became phone calls. The calls eventually led to long and worried voicemails. 

“Hey, let me know when you’re free! I have some news!” became “Please answer. I just want to know if you’re okay...if I did anything, please let me know. If I upset you, I’m sorry. Call me when you have time.” The last message he left you was short, his voice barely audible. “Please, I need to see you.”

Finally they stopped and you could barely remember your eyes were colored at all because they were always filled with tears.

Your family understood. All of them just as confused by the turn of events as you were. There was no record of someone’s soulmate changing, much less switching to someone whose soulmate had already moved on. 

You had wanted to be in color, and now you were. Except this wasn’t exactly the way you had hoped it would be. But if you were being honest, you wouldn’t give it up for the world. Every moment, every memory you had with him and the feelings he gave you were finally validated. In a way, you felt triumphant in your would be tragedy. 

You were in love.  
You belonged with him.  
Even if he didn’t belong with you. 

***

You worked up your courage by rehearsing in front of a mirror. Practicing a conversation you could never be fully prepared for or anticipate the direction of. The desire to run from this was there every morning, but you wanted him to know.

He had to know. He had every right to know that you were in love with him. That he was your soulmate and that it was okay with you that you weren’t his.

In a way, you still hadn’t reconciled that with yourself. But he didn’t have to know that. You could do anything for him. That was what you felt and that was what you would do. So you picked up your phone, scrolling past all the missed calls and voicemails you’d listened to over and over. It only rang twice before you heard frantic breathing on the other end. 

“Hello?” His voice was soft and hurt, but also hopeful. Guilt hit you like a train. So wrapped up in your own pain, you hadn’t had the strength to face him. You’d hurt him.

“Hey,” you said, slapping yourself mentally for the tepid response.

“Are you okay? How are you?” He was speaking cautiously as if he was afraid of frightening you. You supposed he was worried about driving you away again. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That you had just been struggling because you loved him so much. He meant so much to you.

But instead, “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Oh, good,” The air left his body in a rush. His relief obvious as he took in another breath. “So, um, what’s up? What did you call about? We haven’t gotten our project back yet.” It was obvious that he was trying to focus on something, anything, to keep you on the phone. 

“I didn’t call about our project,” you corrected him hurriedly. “I need to talk to you...if that’s okay.” 

“Yes! Of course that’s fine! What about?” The warmth in his tone filling you as if replanting you. His voice grounding you like water and soil you’d been without. Though you had been in love even while grey, everything was clearer and exciting. Everything was new and whole. 

He made you feel new and whole.

“I’d rather talk about it in person. Is that okay?” Your voice did not betray your nerves, but rather conveyed the confidence you now felt behind all of your actions. This wasn’t some schoolyard crush like everyone had made you believe. 

“I would love to see you,” he blurted, a little too loudly, stumbling over the words. Before you could stop it, a giggle slipped out and he chuckled sheepishly in response before clearing his throat. “I mean, yeah. When and where?” You could practically see his embarrassed face, cheeks a little pink and hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“The beach, in half an hour?”

“I’ll be there.”

***

Your nerves began to build as you swayed with the train. All of the bravado you had when you’d called him began to drain away at an alarming rate. You still couldn’t look yourself in the eyes, why did you think you could handle looking into his?

Maybe if you ran off the train and lived off the grid for the rest of your life, this would be better.  
You shook your head at that. Makoto had already suffered the loss of one person he cared about. You didn’t want to add to the tally. Besides, you’d already run. You’d run for so long in fact that he’d been relieved to hear your voice. The pain he couldn’t hide still rattled you.

You would never let that happen again.

The screeching of the wheels shook you out of your reverie. It seemed that you spent all your time in your mind these days, so stepping out onto the platform and into the open air was refreshing. Taking a deep breath of the salty wind reminded you of the freedom you’d felt before you’d woken up and been condemned to a soulmate-less life. 

It was now or never, you supposed. Makoto was patient, but you didn’t want to make him wait forever. Even if he rejected you, you wanted to be by his side. You wanted to be there for him in any capacity you could be. His loneliness trumped your heartbreak.

The beach wasn’t far from the station. You made your way through the sand, careful not to drag your feet. He wasn’t here yet. Not that you could see. So you walked toward the water and watched the sun glistening off the moving peaks.

“You came.” His voice startled you though it could barely be heard over the wind and the waves. You were almost embarrassed that you’d been caught off guard by something so benign and sweet in nature. In spite of yourself, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You didn’t miss the implications of his words either.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” You asked, trying to be lighthearted. The sea catching your question before he did. “I called you, remember?”

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” he answered honestly. The genuine fear in his voice just barely overridden by his obvious if tentative joy. He had been frank with you. The least you could do was return the favor. 

You turned. The long waiting confession on your lips when you met his eyes.

“Green,” you murmured instead, hand reaching out and up. They weren’t the untouchable reflected blue you saw on the beach or cold cut off white you knew. His eyes were green. 

“Yeah,” he sighed and leaned into your touch. Hand coming up to cover your own. “I see that you have some news for me too.”

“News?” you repeated, remembering his voice mail as everything clicked into place. “Is this what you wanted to tell me?” Every moment you’d been hiding from the reality of his white gaze and he had been trying to show you that you shared color all along. The one sided story you’d been ready to act out drained from you and seeped into the sand as you stepped in closer. 

“It happened at the beach,” he chuckled. “You were asleep.” He pulled in you the rest of the way, his head resting on top of yours. 

“I didn’t notice at all,” you sputtered, affronted by the fact that something as simple as looking him in the eyes would have taken away all this pain.

“Well, you didn’t exactly look up from the ground the entire way back to the station,” he reminded you gently. His lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You felt the contact in your bones and the meaning behind the action radiated through you. 

“So, I was expecting to come out here and tell you that I understood that you weren’t meant to be with me, but I was hoping you would let me stay by your side anyway,” you admitted into his chest. The reality hitting you as tears welled up into your eyes. Burying yourself deeper into his arms, you let out a sob. “I was so scared that you would reject me.”

“I could never,” he said comfortingly, bring your face out from his shirt. “I mean, I took you out on all those dates didn’t I?” he chuckled, trying his best to kiss away your tears. 

“Dates?” Had you missed an entire phase of your life in which you’d dated the boy you’d been pining after for longer than you’d like to admit?

“Yes, dates. Did you not realise?” The grin he wore was teasing. “I told all my friends about how I was dating this wonderful, kindhearted, and creative fujoshi. Here I was thinking I was successfully wooing you and you didn’t even know we were dating.” He said dramatically, feigning hurt.

Shaking with laughter, you blinked away your tears and looked up into the verdant gaze that spoke volumes about his feelings for you.

“Well it worked,” you breathed. Giggles still slipping out between the occasional sob. You had to get used to being with your soulmate, it seemed. It still didn’t seem real.

His eyes followed your own as though he couldn’t see anything else. All the stories sweeping you up in their grandeur as they transformed your reality.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”


End file.
